


The Music of the Night

by AsterRoc



Series: The Guardian of the Ballet [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, a bit of shadow tentacles, other tags omitted for spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterRoc/pseuds/AsterRoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation…</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What occurred in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/768581/chapters/1441251">The Guardian of the Opera</a> between Chapters 7 (The Guardian of the Ballet) and 8 (I Remember).  Written from the Phantom’s point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Music of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend reading this work after the entirety of "The Guardian of the Opera" has posted as there's a bit of spoilers in it, however if you can't hold out due to my unintentional hiatus on that one, then go for it. :) 
> 
> _Sustenuto_ – a musical term from Italian typically written in musical pieces to indicate performers should hold a note longer than the written value of the note. In ensemble groups the conductor will indicate when to cut off the sustained note. Often the last note of a piece is sustained.
> 
> Note: I have marked this work as containing rape/non-con because I believe in consent culture: without enthusiastic consent, I'm calling it rape/non-con. Many people would call what's contained herein dub-con instead. In short, there is sex, there isn't enthusiastic consent on the part of at least one person involved.

The dark man stands above the brightly clad boy slumped over his own leg. He knows that Jack is not truly a boy, but in his unconsciousness he looks so young, so innocent, so vulnerable. He reaches forward with his gray hands, then pauses for a moment before touching him; he is unclean, he is impure, and he does not deserve to put his hands on such a perfect creature, nor does Jack deserve to be sullied by his touch. And yet, he has touched the young man many times in their dancing, placing his hands firmly around his slender waist, and even tonight running his hands up his leg while lifting it higher than Jack had been able to on any previous occasions. 

Taking a deep breath, he pushes the eager shadows back away from his precious Jack and reaches to take him into his arms. He lifts the slight form gently, one arm reaching under his legs to cradle them close to his own chest. The body in his arms looks beautiful in the faint light of the candles. Here in the darkness, in the nighttime, his senses are heightened. He can feel the shadows stirring, and feels himself stirring in response, as he imagines what the shadows would look like against Jack’s porcelain skin. If the night he always lived in unfurled its splendor and slowly, gently caressed the form in front of him. 

But he does not want to do that, he wants to touch Jack himself. He does not have a bed, for he does not sleep as normal people do, but he has a pile of blankets and pillows gathered for Jack’s comfort on previous occasions. He gently places him within the embrace of the cushions, and Jack’s abandoned senses take no note of the change; he does not stir defensively in the slightest. He lowers himself to the pillows as well, next to Jack. 

Tremulous and tender, he reaches a hand towards Jack’s arm. He can feel Jack’s body slowly moving with his breaths, and he gently reaches towards the buttons on his jacket, grasping them in his hands and undoing them one by one. Without the jacket, Jack’s skin is cool in the air of the cavern, but he does not shiver and there are no goose bumps. He runs his right hand down Jack’s left leg, along his thigh to his knee and toned calf, then he notices Jack’s bare feet. Jack’s unconscious form shudders slightly as he touches the sole and toes of one foot, and his hand comes away wet. It is too dark to see the color, but he knows it must be blood from his dancing on the rough stone floor. 

He quickly rises and strides down one of the corridors leading from the cavern. When he reaches the room he seeks, he guides the shadows to bring him the supplies he wants. He points towards a shelf where bandages lie, and a tendril of black sand scoops them up. He gestures towards the back where there is an empty bucket, and something with eyes retrieves it. The slightest of movements and a stack of towels is carried off by darkness. In moments he is returning to the stream and washing out and refilling the bucket with the cold clean water of the stream feeding the frozen lake. 

Soon he is by Jack’s side once more, washing his feet, cleaning the blood and the dirt from the wounds. Jack senses it, but rather than pulling away, his feet stretch into the warm soothing hands, and his body relaxes further into the pillows. As he works, slowly and methodically, the moonlight shifts where it filters down through the holes in the cavern’s ceiling. The faintest bit of light finally falls on Jack’s face, and he cannot decide whether it gives his pale features a beautiful glow, or whether it is garish, throwing the lines and planes of Jack’s face into harsh contrast with his own soft shadows. Jack whimpers slightly and turns his face away, his eyes clenching more tightly. Without his volition, one of his shadows creeps up onto Jack’s face, swirling in front of it, and with this Jack’s eyes relax once more, peace filling his visage as the youth surrenders to the dark dreams that the sand brings. 

Jack’s lips part as he moves slightly, as though to some inaudible music filling the night of the dark man’s home. His heartbeat races as he watches the rapture fill Jack’s face once more, and he quickly finishes the bandage on his second foot, having the shadows take the accouterments away. He runs his hand down Jack’s now bare arm, caressing the pale skin with his gray fingers. He leaves Jack’s undershirt on him though, as he does not want the young man to chill too much. When his hand reaches Jack’s waist where he wears white leggings over his dance belt, he realizes that Jack is moving his hips softly, and that the dance belt is struggling to contain his arousal. With this realization, he feels an answering pulse in his own groin, nearly dwarfed by the sensation of his spirit soaring to the realization of Jack’s reactions to his touch. 

Deftly, he reaches around Jack with his slight movements, and slips his leggings down to his knees. The sight of the full dance belt, shaping Jack’s bulge into perfection, makes him catch his breath. He runs his hand gently over the bulge, feeling himself possessed by such desire as he has never felt. His mind runs wild with the fantasies unwinding within it, but for Jack’s sake he fights the darkest of his urges, and instead opens himself to the rhythm controlling Jack’s motions. 

There is music within the darkness of the night, and as he begins to gently tug Jack’s dance belt down over his hips, he can feel the music starting to invade him as well. When the dance belt reaches Jack’s knees, resting against where his tights are bunched up, he feels as though he is in a strange new world, filled with amazing possibilities. He gives a slight tug against Jack’s shoulder, and the young man responds by turning onto his right side, and he moves around Jack’s body to curl up behind him. He leans on his right elbow and with a gesture his own black tights and dance belt melt back into the shadows of which they were made, freeing his own erection into the cool air of the cave, pressing its length into the cleft between Jack’s perfect alabaster cheeks. 

For a moment he is content to simply rest his hardness between the lobes of Jack’s cool skin while he strokes his hand under Jack’s shirt and against his firm stomach, but as he feels Jack’s stalk rising to touch his hand, he knows where he longs to be. He must claim Jack as his own. At this knowledge, he allows a shadow to slip between their bodies and tease into Jack’s rosebud. Magically slick with his powers, a small tendril sneaks into Jack’s cavern, and he can feel Jack tight around the shadow as if it were his own fingers. He gasps with the sensation, and allows the shadow to slowly grow, making more room for him. 

As the shadow slowly thrusts in and out, he can feel Jack begin to move against him, pushing his derrière against his hardness, and he turns his hand around to grasp Jack’s own firm member. Jack slowly thrusts back into him, and he allows his own erection to shift from between his cheeks and towards where the shadow probes his opening. Although the shadow is firm within Jack, he smoothly moves through it, aligning his tip with Jack’s hole. It is wide open from the preparation of the shadow, and he moves through the shadow and smoothly inside, sheathing himself deeply within Jack. He feels Jack pulse around him, clenching tight and holding him within, and in his hand Jack’s erection pulses as well. With this, he knows that Jack finally belongs to him. 

He pulls back slowly, hearing Jack whimper unconsciously as he leaves, and then gently he pushes back inwards, feeling the cool ring of flesh tight around him move up and down his shaft. He is falling in to Jack, floating outside his body, a sweet intoxication. One hand gently tugs on Jack’s hardness, the other smoothes his hair back from his forehead. Jack’s head turns into the caress, his body trusting him even in his unconscious state. He savors the sensation, as well as those throughout the rest of his body. 

Jack gasps as he presses inside once again, his head twisting and writhing in the throes of whatever dream the black sand brought him. For a moment the youth’s body tenses against him as though fighting, and then with a sigh he relaxes back into his arms, giving in to his darker side. He pulls back out, faster now, and thrusts in hard, wringing a gasp from Jack’s unconscious body. His body surges with the music that he hears. It is only in his mind, but this music of the night is begging to be released, urging him to move faster, urging him to write it down. Jack is so tight around him, bringing heat to his gray skin everywhere they touch, even on his shaft within Jack, even though Jack’s skin is itself cool. He gasps for air as his body is taken over by the power of the music, as he feels the crescendo of the song coordinate with his release, as the song takes flight and bursts from within him to fill Jack, and at the same moment he feels Jack’s own release in his firm grip, his seed flowing over his hand, Jack’s stomach, and the pillows. 

As the last _sustenuto_ of the song fades, he can feel himself softening within Jack, and he lets himself slip out from within him. The music of the night has faded, and after a few moments catching his breath he summons the shadows back to him to help him clean them both up. While the shadows remove Jack’s seed, he himself gently puts Jack’s clothes to right once more. His dance belt is raised back to his waist, Jack’s member tucked back into an ideal bulge. His white leggings sadly cover his legs once more. His jacket covers his arms, buttons done up along his chest, now clean. The pillows are turned so no evidence remains easily visible. The dark man pulls a blanket up over Jack’s form, helping him to keep in the little heat his body possesses, and rises from the nest where he had cocooned their bodies during their lovemaking. With an absent gesture, shadows cloak his body once more as he moves towards the keyboard. 

The music of the night is singing in his blood now, and he must get it down onto paper before it fades entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during a writer’s block on Chapter 28. Despite writing it after the majority of this work was done, I think of it as a deleted scene, as the content was in my head from exactly when this scene would have fit. There were even a couple references to this deleted scene during “All I Ask of You” (Ch 15).


End file.
